"What!"
"Yes, yes, I tell you. I'm not a heroine, ready to drudge away my life in any round of dull work that'll keep body and soul together. I'd rather have the excitement of living what you call a hole-and-corner life than spend my days stitch—stitch—stitching—dust—dust—dusting, as I used to have to do with Miss Aldridge, as I should have to do if I went away from here."
"Well, but there are other things you could do," pleaded Max, with vague thoughts of setting his own sisters to work to find this erratic child of the riverside some more seemly mode of life than her present one.
"What other things?"
"Why, you could—you could teach in a school or in a family."
"No, I couldn't. I don't know enough. And I wouldn't like it, either. And I should have to leave Granny, who wants me, and is fond of me—"
"And Dick!" burst out Max, spitefully. "You would have to give up the society of Dick."
It was possible, even in the darkness, to perceive that this remark startled Carrie. She said, in astonishment which she could not hide:
"And what do you know about Dick?"
"I know that you wouldn't care for a life that is repugnant to every notion of decency, if it were not for Dick," retorted Max, with rash warmth.